


Time and Relatives in Space

by nostalgia



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Babyfic, Gen, Kidfic, Not-Yet-Established Relationship (timey-wimey), Time Babies, Timey-Wimey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-12
Updated: 2011-11-12
Packaged: 2017-10-25 23:23:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/275986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgia/pseuds/nostalgia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The terribly difficult angsty teenagerhood of Amelia Song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time and Relatives in Space

Many people had parents who didn't live together. There was a girl in the first year whose parents refused to be in the same galactic cluster as each other. This was not Amelia Song's problem. Her parents got on very well, most of the time, and these days they could laugh about the time her mother had tried to kill her father when they met for what was sort of the first time. No, that wasn't the worst thing about Amelia Song's life.

It wasn't even that some of the time her father was supposedly dead and her mother was in prison, because both of those were fairly common and they never let it get in the way of parenting her. It wasn't even the bow-tie, though that was certainly in the Top Ten Worst Things About Being Amelia Song.

The worst thing – at least the current worst thing – was that nobody had arrived yet to pick her up for half-term and that might mean they were trying not to spoiler each other about her existence. Most people had at least one parent who knew they'd been born, after all.

Amelia sat on her suitcase at the front door of Miss Aphasia's School For The Terribly Gifted and thought about how awful her life was.

The second-worst thing about being Amelia Song was that when she said things like “I wish I had never been born” her parents occasionally looked like they were tempted to avoid attending her conception.

Why had no one appeared to collect her? She was The Last Of The Time Lords, which made her at least the fifth most important person in the universe, and since they were her _parents_ they should put her in at least the top three. She closed her eyes, wrinkled her nose, and thought up a Very Stern Letter. A few moments later she was rewarded with the sound of her dad's house materialising at the bottom of the stairs.

“ _Finally_ ,” she said, standing up and picking up her suitcase. She heaved it down the steps and knocked impolitely on the door of the TARDIS.

 _Her door opened a fraction and her father's head appeared in the gap. “Did you send a psychic note about being abandoned by everyone who loves you?”_

 _“Yes,” said Amelia._

 _“Ah,” said the Doctor. “I expect you want me to help you find your parents.”_

 _Amelia sighed dramatically. “Oh, Rassilon's Rod, are you an early one?”_

 _“Pardon?”_

 _Amelia produced her diary from her pocket and leafed through it. “Have you been to Lake Silencio yet?” she asked, irritated beyond the capacity of any mere human._

 _The Doctor stared at her diary. “Oh no,” he said._

 _Amelia closed her diary and put it back in her coat pocket. “There was an accident with a time-machine and a contraceptive. Hello, Dad.”_

 _Amelia sat on the crash seat, bored. Occasionally her father would look up from the console, stare at her, open his mouth to say something, and then look back at the controls._

 _“Half-term lasts two weeks,” she said, eventually. “You're going to have to talk to me at some point.”_

 _The Doctor stepped back from the console and walked over to her, rather more cautiously than was really required, if you asked Amelia's opinion, which nobody had._

 _“Well,” he said, “I suppose this explains why River slapped me the last time I met her. She did look a bit... large. I thought she just really liked prison food.” He looked his new-found daughter up and down. “How old are you?”_

 _“Fourteen. Which, by the way, is old enough to fly a TARDIS.”_

 _The Doctor shook his head. “Not until at least your third regeneration.”_

 _She rolled her eyes. “You _always_ say that. I hate when you say that. _You_ got a TARDIS when you were only two hundred, I don't see why I can't learn to drive at fourteen. I mean, I _am_ a genius, after all.”_

 _“It's just that it's been a while since I had to look after a teenager.”_

 _“Don't bother,” said Amelia, “I can look after myself. Just make me a room and I'll spend the holidays reading.”_

 _“I suppose you'll want pink walls?”_

 _Amelia rolled her eyes again. “How old do you think I am? I'm not _a child_. Black will do fine.”_

 

Amelia heard the knock on the door and sighed. Typical, they couldn't just let her get on with her life. They had to _interfere_. She put aside the tremendous book she was reading about a girl and a vampire and their forbidden love, and went to open the door.

“What?” she asked.

“Could you turn your music down a bit?” asked the Doctor.

“No,” she said, and started to close the door.

It caught on the Doctor's foot. “I can't hear myself think.”

“Then think louder,” she suggested.

The Doctor sighed. “Amelia, I'm your father. Aren't you supposed to do what I tell you to?”

“You're not supposed to end a sentence with a preposition.”

“Rules are made to be broken.” He paused, then added, “Except rules made up by your parents, which should be followed and all times and which are for your own good.”

“You're crap at this,” said Amelia.

“And don't swear. Do they let you talk like that in that school of yours? I think I might have to have a word with your teachers.”

“I _wanted_ to go to a _normal_ school, but then _someone_ would have to look after me when I came home.”

 _“Right,” said the Doctor, “I'm calling in reinforcements.”_

 _This was the worst day of Amelia Song's life. Her parents were standing on the other side of the room, looking at her like she'd just appeared from nowhere dressed as a clown. And they were _whispering_ to each other, almost certainly about her. _

_“You're quite certain we're your parents?” asked her mother after some more whispering._

 _“Yes,” said Amelia. She stood up. “Look, just take me back to school two weeks after you picked me up. It's not like I needed a holiday anyway.”_

 _“Good idea,” said the Doctor, stepping towards the console._

 _River put a hand on his arm. “No, we do have some responsibility here. We can't just send the poor girl away.”_

 _“If you really loved me,” said Amelia, “you'd have named me Jocasta.” She remembered the book she'd been reading. “Or Bella.”_

 _“Amelia's a perfectly good name,” said the Doctor. He turned and whispered something to her mother._

 _Her mum looked at Amelia speculatively. “Well, that isn't _not_ taking responsibility for her...”_

 

Amelia made a face as her mother dabbed at her face with a handkerchief. “Stop it!”

“You have to make a good impression.”

The Doctor nodded. “You're the last of the Time Lords, you have standards to maintain. Have you got everything?”

Amelia nodded glumly. “I can't believe you're doing this to me. I hate you.”

“We love you too, dear,” said her mother, kissing her forehead rather awkwardly.

The door opened.

“Rory!” said the Doctor. “Listen, have you any experience with babysitting?”


End file.
